Heaven and Hell
by Phoenix Angel Suyari
Summary: Warren/Rogue round two!


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Disclaimer: I own nothing but Amelia Gale

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A/N: This fic was constructed to stand on it's own, though it is sorta the sequel to A Heavenly Experience. You don't really need to have read the first one, but it might help.

This is for all of you who thought this story's predecessor was worthwhile.

This is also dedicated to MizzMarvel, who in her spare time does muse work and author harassment. Ha ha! Seriously though, this fic wouldn't be here if she hadn't confronted me about it.

MizzMarvel, I hope you like this. And I sincerely hope it makes up for what's going to happen in Heaven Can Wait. I apologize once again. (Btw, see what the right weather, some good music, and a muse on an ego boost can achieve? ^.~) 

To any casual observer, the sight before them would be a miracle. A beautiful angel with large white wings and soft golden hair. His stance was mournful as he stared out at the ragging storm. The occasional lightening bolt illuminating the sky, as well as the angel and his surroundings, would bring any God fearing man to his knees. It truly was a breathtaking sight, and also a sad one. The angel was grieving and no angel should be sad. They have no reason to be, or do they?

An informed observer would tell you yes, for an informed observer would tell you the glorious angel framed in nature's precious light was none other than Warren Worthington III. Just your average young man. No angel. Not in the traditional sense. He is no champion of God, nor man. He was not sent from Heaven, unless you count being born. He is not here to judge. No, far from it. He is here to be safe from judgment, and those who would hate him. He is here because he is a mutant. But that's not why he's upset. No, that is the furthest thing from his mind. 

At the moment, young Angel is deeply in love. The young woman he loves is not far from him. Not really far at all. She lives in the same house; she's just down the hall. But at the moment, it feels as if she is worlds away. Angel is in pain. He hurts for a love he can never truly have. Why? His love is deadly, in the literal sense. One touch from her could very well kill him, but he'd rather die from one touch then to never know her kiss. 

His head drops in silent defeat. He hates to admit it, but he simply cannot fight any longer. His love, his Rogue has stolen his heart. He would be happy if she weren't so intent on breaking it. 

Tears spill down his heavenly face, but he makes no move to wipe them away. He has only this. He can only stand here and wonder. The pain is more than he can stand. For one so blessed, life shouldn't be that terrible, but in truth all of his blessings were lies. He'd hoped this time would be different. Rich. He was so rich. Billions upon billions in the bank, but it all meant nothing. The wealth, the power, everything he'd owned, nothing meant anything. It was all one cruel lie. His parents never loved him; they'd only ever needed him. When you're rich you need an heir and nothing else. He didn't know how it felt to just let loose and be free. Everything he did, he did for them. His life was all about honoring a name. Honoring his family name was all he was worth, a centuries old name with no real meaning to him. Everything he did caused him to rebel against his heart. He would not hate himself anymore.

He sighs, feeling lost. Feeling completely alone. Only one person understands. Only one person could ever understand. But she is miles away right now and it is all his fault.

Tears rain down, rivaling their brethren on the other side of the glass. He's betrayed his own heart. She'd never forgive him.

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~Flashback~

Warren jumped as the door to his room slammed open. Rogue stood in the doorway seething with anger, a crumpled magazine clasped tightly in her hand. His brow furrowed. "Rogue, honey, what's the matter?" he asked softly. "What's tha matta?! What's tha matta?!" she cried, her accent thick with emotion, "How could ya ask me sumthin' lahke that?! Ya didn't think ah'd find out?! How could ya?! Ah love ya! Ah thought ya knew that! Ah thought ya understood!" Warren's defenses rose immediately. He began to think of anything he'd done or said that could have this sort of affect, but he was at a loss. His heart ached in his chest, knowing, somehow **knowing**, that this would be the end. His voice caught in his throat. He swallowed hard, his eyes locked with hers. "Darling what-" "Dontcha darlin' me! Ah'm through with ya and all a this!" She waved her arms around for emphasis. "Rogue-" "Save it! It's over! Ah hope yer happy. Ya can have yer princess now!" She threw down the magazine and ran out of the room. 

Warren sat on his bed frozen in shock. What had just happened? It took him a couple of minutes to process everything. As he realized what she meant by "It's over" his heart stopped. He couldn't believe it. No he'd probably heard her wrong. She couldn't have meant they were over. No, he'd probably heard her wrong. Not after all this time. Tears threatened and he felt as if he couldn't breathe. Slowly he got up and walked over to the magazine she'd thrown. He picked it up dreading what he might find. He flipped through it with blind eyes, then closed it forlornly.

He almost died. There it was on the cover big and bold and bright. It was a picture of him and Amelia Gale. Her family was almost as rich as his, if not nearly as prestigious. She was the only heir for the Gales and two years younger than him. There families had always tried to force them upon each other. They may be neglectful, but they weren't stupid. A union between Worthington Industries and Gale Incorporated would make the world their playground. And the best unions were always marriages. Warren groaned. The caption read, "Together at last. America's first royal wedding." He groaned again, running a hand through his hair. There was no way out of this. The picture showed them kissing. But it wasn't what it looked like. Damn them! Their parents had done it again!

Warren was furious. They always seemed to ruin whatever good came of his life. He swallowed a few times, trying to keep from heaving on his carpet. This was the last straw! They'd taken everything from him. He'd never thought it would happen, and now it finally had. Rogue. The one good thing in his entire life was gone. A whole year's worth of love was suddenly ripped from him and the world came crashing down. He raced across his room to his phone. Three tries later he was still getting their machine. How could he have let this happen?! He'd let his guard down in front of his parents and they'd crucified him. **Damn them! Damn** **them! Damn them!**

Rogue refused to talk to him that day or the day after. She completely ignored him, refusing to acknowledge his existence for anything. And he'd tried. He didn't know what else to do. He was lost. He was lost and alone; and it'd only been a week!

There could be no denial. He'd kissed Amelia, it was true. But what no one knew was that she'd asked him to. She'd never been kissed before and who better to ask then your best friend. The kiss hadn't meant anything to either of them. He also couldn't pretend he didn't know what had made Rogue so angry. She was his girlfriend. She'd been his girlfriend for one whole blissful year. But, underneath it all, Warren knew she wanted more. He couldn't give her more, no one could. It was that fact that made her distance herself. It was that fact that made him fight harder for her.

They'd been intimate, many times in fact. But their intimacy was always hindered by the fact that they couldn't touch. It caused more problems than one would think. Sometimes a simple kiss was worth more. But that would never happen. There was no simple kiss with Rogue, her mutation made it impossible. And that was a shame; Rogue was made for kissing. God had made Rogue for loving.

The mutation was a test. For Rogue was too special for just anyone to love. No. You had to prove you were worthy. If you truly loved her you would find a way. Warren had spent countless hours trying to figure it out. He was beginning to feel he was unworthy. Then again, perhaps the time just wasn't right. After all he'd found a way around her powers before. He could damn well do it again. He knew this as truth; deep within him lay the answer. In the mean time he'd come up with another way. It had taken two months to finally prove its worth. The trick was testing it. But then he couldn't test it out without her. He wouldn't know without her. Fuck that, he couldn't live without her. 

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~End~

The tears were gone now. There would be no more. The young man known as Angel looks out his window, dwelling in his misery. The weather outside suits his mood. It is as if it is being reflected by his soul. If he were Ororo Munroe this could very well be true. But this is not so. 

Another crash, more rumbling. The storm is screaming for him. The rain, the thunder, the lightening, the clouds, the wind, all of it. They are he and he is the storm. But there will be no rainbow for him when it is over. There will be only pain and a chilling reminder of the joy that he'll never feel again.

He has been staring out this window so long he has lost his connection with reality. Suddenly he feels it. Another presence in his room. He closes his eyes, willing it away. He can't take much more. Another crash, a bright flash, and two arms slip around his waist. A face presses into his back and his heart is dying. Soft kisses trail over the angle of his wings. His head falls back with a groan, tears he thought long gone coming to his eyes.

He turns and faces her. She is more beautiful than ever. The white streak in her hair looks as if it is glowing. Her green eyes are tear-filled and regretful. Choking back a sob, he brings her to him, holding her tightly. Her body conforms to his in a perfect display of unity they will never know. Her arms tighten around him and she begins to cry. He simply holds her.

After an eternity she looks up at him. Looking down into her perfect face, he's reminded of their first night together. His heart had never been the same since she'd let him into her life. And it would never be the same. It would forever be a slave to her love.

He leaned forward. She tried to pull back, but she was molded to his frame. "Warren don't," she pleaded with frightened eyes, her voice breaking. "Shh…" he replied. He stopped just before their lips touched and traced her lips slowly with his tongue. After she realized she wasn't absorbing him she relaxed in his arms, surrendering to the wonderful feel of his tongue against her skin. Warren's tongue slid down the side of her neck, teasing her racing pulse. She sighed, her head dipping back in surrender. His hands traced her gentle curves, stopping to grasp her backside firmly and press her against him. Just knowing he wanted her always made things easier. She was always so proud, though she would never admit it. She groaned and held him tighter.

His tongue drew an imaginary picture along her throat, across her collarbone. Then his mouth was over hers again. He nudged her lips apart and his tongue delved into her mouth carefully. Soon her tongue joined his in an intimate dance of pleasure. She began to get more daring, and soon her tongue was running along his skin as well.

Neither can recall how they made it to the bed. Though both can accurately describe the ecstasy to this day. And how something so beautiful came from something so simple. For as everyone knows, the tongue is immune. The curse belongs only to the flesh.

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A/N: Hey, has anyone noticed all my fics with Warren in them has a reference to Heaven? *laughing* I just noticed. Trust me, it wasn't done intentionally. Though, now that I look at it, I might just make it a theme. Warren/Rogue series anyone? Ha ha.


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